This past weekend went as most do… completely randomly. Carissa and I had a friend from home who was in town for a wedding, so we spent part of Saturday with him, getting lunch at Nick’s, which ended up turning into mimosas, bloody marys and LI iced teas. We then wandered over to Lahaina’s on the beach for some fine pitchers of beer, because no out-of-of-towner’s trip to SD can be complete without some quality time at Lahaina’s.

V came to meet up, and Carissa and Roupen headed out shortly after. V and I positioned ourselves in our usual spot, which is at the edge of the deck right by the wooden railing, with the sidewalk below. During our normal (not really normal) conversation, we both looked down below when some loud motorcycles pulled up. Two of the guys were older fat men with huge beards and tats all over, and then there was one who looked somewhere between our ages, and besides a sleeve of tattoos, looked pretty clean-cut… biker-sexual, if you will.

V says, “I LOVE guys on motorcycles.”

I knew.

“Well, that one’s actually pretty hot.”

He took his helmet off, and it was confirmed. Definite hottie.

I tell V, “I’m going to talk to him for you.”

“No. Please don’t.”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.”

“Please don’t. I hate it when you do this.”

“Oh, stop being like Carissa.”

I lean over the railing and wave to the guy who had just gotten off of his bike. He looks over, smiles, and waves back. I gesture for him to come over. He obliges. I start a pretty normal (probably not normal) conversation with him, and collect the basic information (he’s single, 28 and lives in the area), before telling him I think he’d be great for my roommate and she’s really cute.

He says, “Oh, really? Who’s your roommate? What does she look like.”

V is sitting across the table and probably about ready to murder me, when I point to her and say, “Well she’s here! This is V.”

He says, “Oh wow, she is cute.”

V and motorcycle man introduce themselves from over the railing, and although he is in a rush because his big motorcycle dudes are waiting for him and one of them is out of gas, he asks V for her number, and immediately messages her to make sure she has his as well.

He walks away, and I say, “You’re welcome.” V rolls her eyes, but I can tell she’s into it.

I pat myself on my back, because I feel I was a pretty darn good wingman, and I’ve done my good deed for the day.

V and I left Lahaina’s shortly after to catch a shuttle bus to Oktoberfest in OB, the next town south of us. The problem that I created for myself was that I just had such an easy time picking up a guy for someone else, so I got it in my head that it should be just as easy of a task to do for myself. Piece.of.cake.

We get to Oktoberfest, walk around the vendors for a bit, then head to the tent to grab a couple of beers. I immediately spot a tall, beefy, sexual man in the distance. I spotted him because his head was higher up in the crowd than other people’s. This is rocket science, I know. I told V, “Okay, I’m going to go wingman myself, like I wingman’ed you.”

We walk over, and my genius-ass takes the same exact approach as I did with the motorcycle dude, since it worked so well that time. “My roommate thinks your cute,” I think, might have been the line. He asks if V, who is standing next to me is my roommate and I respond,

“No. Well, yes, she is, but no, it’s not her.”

Somehow we continue talking to the guy and three of his friends, with them all seeming to forget about that “roommate” who thought he was cute. We hit it off, and ended up agreeing to go with one of the couples to their house to let their dogs out, and then back to PB to all go out there. I think it was during the car ride when one of the girls said,

“So wait… where’s your roommate that thought [Beefy] was cute?”

V and I look at each other for a second. Whoops. “Oh, in Rhode Island.”

“Then how did she know he was cute?”

“Who said it was a she?”

I think we just confused them so much, they dropped the subject. We ended up hanging out all night, dancing, and knocking over photo booths… pretty typical evening.

Beefy and I will apparently be seeing each other again Thursday night. And V got some super-sweet selfies from motorcycle man today. Things are looking up.

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A couple of weeks ago, I took this photo from Tinder and posted it on my Facebook page, announcing that I had found my soulmate, based on his tagline alone.

Each time I referred to this guy with my friends, it would be “my soulmate” this, or “my soulmate” that, and everyone knew who I was talking about. I hadn’t met the guy yet, and really, hadn’t even spoken to him. A few days after I right-swiped him, he reached out, and we began chatting a little. He seemed kinda funny and quirky. And he lives in PB which is nice, because everyone who doesn’t live in PB seems to hate on it and never wants to come here.

“Oh… I won’t go out in PB anymore…” [eye roll]

or

“PB?! I haven’t been there in like 3 years….”

or

“I’m too ollldddd to go out in PB…”

You get the idea. People who used to live here are now way too good for it. Or are afraid of fun. Not people I feel like hanging around anyway.

So Friday morning started with V on the couch watching TV (she works Sundays through Thursdays), and me getting ready for work. As I’m procrastinating around the house, V says,

“Would you just leave already, so you can come back??”

I say, “The only reason I’m leaving is so I can come back.”

It made sense in my head. It was a warm, sunny day, and there were some baseball games on… the people without regular jobs were all going out to the bars to watch. So I carried along with my day, with friendly reminders from V every once in a while to hurry up, and when I was content with my progress, I ran home to shower for happy hour. We got on our bikes, with plenty of hours of daylight ahead and began our evening.

At the first bar, we met up with a few guy friends who all had something to say about “the cowboy,” and wanted to know how that was going. I informed them that I’d been speaking to him but haven’t seen him since the first awkward coffee date. They were confused as to WHY I would want to see him again, and the best way I could explain it was to say I just really want to get to the bottom of what the hell is wrong with him. Because there is something very wrong with him.

As we’re sitting around the table, with my phone in the middle, it lights up with a very blatent Tinder message notification. Andy points to it and laughs. I pick it up and read it. It’s my soulmate inquiring about my plans for the night. Yeeehhhawwwwwwww…. I wanna meet this dude! I tell V that he might meet up later after he gets out of work and goes to the gym.

Since it was still sunny out, V and I grabbed our bikes and headed to our next destination, Lahaina’s… which is basically a big deck on the beach. It’s always hopping, but apparently less-so after the summer is over and tourists are gone, so we were able to secure a good spot with a table. At some point during my text convo with Soulmate, he barked and then I meowed, and V said, “Maybe you are actually soulmates.”

Soulmate messages to say he’s leaving the gym and going to stop by Lahaina’s on his way home.

“ON HIS WAY HOME??? That’s so lame… he’s going to come here all sweaty from the gym??”

V suggests, “Maybe he’s trying to feel you out before committing to hanging out?”

“Good point.”

He shows up in his gym attire. Definitely cute, but shorter than I thought. (I know, I know… I’m short.. yada yada) He is quietly witty. And he can handle V and me, in our giggly sarcastic moods. So I’m digging his vibes. He’s a doctor, but not a stuffy doctor. We bonded sharing medical stories and useful info such as how to get a mouse into the bladder, and what happens if you stick a turkey baster full of tequila up your ass (he’s witnessed the aftermath).

Then something happens. We ask his last name. His last name comes out of his mouth and V LOSES IT. Like full-out starts laughing so hard she can’t breathe. Then the tears start flowing, and she gets out, “is that your real name??”

It really wasn’t THAT funny… but V is crying, and now so am I. It’s the kinda thing where you’re not supposed to be laughing, but someone else is, so you just can’t stop. Soulmate is taking it okay, and can’t help laughing a little, but I don’t think he really knew what he was laughing at. Just as we were composing ourselves, V says,

“So if they need to find you in the hospital do they say, “Paging Doctor _______??”

“Yeah.”

She loses it again. After a good 10 minutes we were able to move to another topic of conversation. Then our former couch-dweller, Erin shows up, and we have to share his last name all over again.

Despite our obnoxious behavior, when the sun went down and it was time to hit up the next place, instead of parting ways for the night, Soulmate said he was going to run home and shower and then come meet back up with us, which he did. We somehow passed the post-gym test with flying colors, because he was back to meet us at Open Bar in no time. And then followed to Reds, where we danced like idiots to country music, with some of Erin’s dance moves taking place from the floor, lying on her back and kicking her legs in the air to the beat. Not really sure how we pulled off that place without getting kicked out. But we did.

Soulmate went home, V went to frolic on the beach with String Bean Ween, I have no idea where Erin went, and then JR randomly texted saying he was at the place next door. Showing the bad decision-making skills I’m known to have, I stopped in there instead of just GOING HOME like a normal person would have. Of course, he’s hammered and so super-duper ducky excited to see me like I’m his long-lost lover (REMINDER… he didn’t want to date ME)… He was like jumping up and down and trying to dance with this big goofy smile on his face, when I pulled out my iPhone, clicked on the “Lyft” app [awesome new cab service], and requested a car at the click of a button. It said my car would be there in 3 minutes, so I hightailed it awayyyy from JR’s hideous dance moves, and bolted out the front door. He followed. As the mustache Lyft car pulled up, I said goodbye and hopped in… only to have JR immediately text me 300 times. SO.OVER.IT.

I finally get home and in bed, when V comes through the door explaining that she was just at the beach doing “normal sand activities,” while standing over my bed and shaking out her clothes. I’m still trying to get sand out of my sheets. And still trying to figure out what “normal sand activities” are.

After the doozy of a Friday night, we used Saturday as a relaxation day at the beach watching surf competitions and lounging by a pool, followed by a movie night in with Thai food.

Soulmate texted and asked if he’ll see me again. When I asked if he wanted to, he said “Duh.”

So, I’m waiting for his move, and will try not to think about his last name next time I see him…